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On Pause

This is the pause that he employs,
When his stance is resolute,
This is his silent use of noise,
That speaks volumes when on mute.
This is not an empty moment,
Just waiting to be filled,
It’s intelligent, it’s eloquent,
It’s be spoken by the skilled,
This is thought upon a precipice,
It’s surgical; a cut that leaves no scar,
Consider this his emphasis,
His suspended coup de grace.
. To a break in flow, we’ll pay attention,
. It helps to grow our comprehension.

To the reader: The rhythm of speech is particular to each of us. We modulate our voice to draw attention to words that enhance the meaning of our message. In “I have a dream…” the vocal technique of Martin Luther-King is slow and deliberate; audible and easily absorbed. But there comes a time … a time in his speech when more … so much more is needed. The king-hit is sermon. Trained as a Baptist minister Luther-King turns lectern into pulpit with masterful ease and maximum impact.

To the poet: Rhythm and repetition given an occasional pause for emphasis; that’s it, the message has its pigeon. Short in form, the sonnet is ripe for delivering a sharp punch. Impact is important. The pause, as a literary device, pulls the punch, gears up momentum and off-puts the listener. Make the rhythm predictable but defy expectation with a pause … a misplaced pause, an awkward pause, a pregnant pause … a pause nonetheless.

Join the Journey

Author: Tim Grace

At the beginning of February 2010, I was at Brisbane Airport, in transit and on my way to Brunei. A hectic one-month work assignment was looming and I knew I would need some way of releasing my 'off task' thoughts. Fortunately, as it turns out, the airport bookshop had sold out of its copies of Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger died a few days earlier - 27/1/2010) - so, next to his empty plot was a copy of Shakespeare's Sonnets.
The seven hour flight to Brunei was the perfect length to finish all 154 sonnets. Obviously, there are some brilliant poems in amongst his life's work; but there are the occasional verses that leave you wondering. Read in a single sitting the sonnets collectively tell of an artist who was easily smitten by love, had an obsession with his mirrored image, was haunted by his increasing age and looming mortality. He often uses the changing seasons as a metaphor for these themes which are expressed in the context of a semi-rural environment.
While on assignment in Brunei, I resided at the Abdul Ruzaq serviced apartments and to escape the need to make a new eatery decision each night I surrendered my eating habits to the Charcoal Grill. At a table for one (and set for four) I usually settled into a routine consisting of menu selection, sonnet readings, dining; and to finish - a brewed coffee as the accompaniment to my own sonnet writing.